Page 41 of Falling into Place
He tried to put it into words. “You’re just surprising, I guess. Just when I think I’ve got you figured out you change it up on me.”
“I still don’t follow.”
She regarded him across the table, one brow raised. Everything about her was just so damn inviting, and he couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk to her. Something told him even if they “practiced” like this every day for a year, it still wouldn’t be this easy with someone else.
“When I first met you at Coffee Slingers, I’d been expecting the quiet book nerd I remembered from high school. And you’re still sort of that person, because you work with numbers and you crochet sweaters for your cat. But you’re also completely different. You go to bars all the time with Sasha. You’re funny and sarcastic and you say things about my ass and waitresses checking me out, and it’s all very confusing.”
She seemed amused by his summary. “Maybe I always was that person. I don’t recall you trying to get to know me back then.”
His initial reaction was to think what a shame that was, but then he remembered what happened to anything he touched during that time of his life. “Thank God for that,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d have ruined you.”
“You weren’tthatbad,” she said, but they both knew he had been. “But either way, I think you get a pass after losing your mom, and virtually your dad, at the same time.”
Her words startled him at first. On the rare occasion someone had a reason to mention his dad, they offered their condolences for his death, which had happened after a major heart attack during Brooks’s third year of medical school. But with the way Carly said it, she knew it felt like they’d lost him long before that. That after his mom had died, his dad had become a shell of his former self, barely able to hold on to his job and having zero energy to devote to his children. He’d been soabsent that Macy’d had to step up occasionally as a parental figure, but she’d been in college and had her own life to worry about.
Most people didn’t know that part, but with as close as Carly and Sasha had been back then, it made sense Carly understood both.
The sound of shattering glass pierced the air, and both of them startled in the direction of a server who’d dropped an entire tray of drinks. The restaurant went silent for a beat before the low hum of conversation picked up again.
Brooks blew out a long breath and directed a wan smile across the table. “Well. I’ve come to the conclusion you and I can’t make small talk. It’s serious business with us or nothing at all.”
“Right? Damn.”
“I hope I can keep it lighter with my dates.”
“Quick, tell me a joke.”
He froze, and she burst out laughing. “Your face! You look like I just asked you to recite the periodic table from memory.”
Now she was talking. “Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium—”
“Oh my God, stop.” She snorted. “Do not do that on a date.”
“Why? You’re laughing, aren’t you?”
She was really beautiful when she laughed.
“And here I was feeling like the geek at this table with my crocheted cat sweaters. Seriously, berylli-whatever? Who even knows that?”
He shrugged. “I had to memorize it in med school. It’s one of those things that never left me. And I bet some women would find it extremely sexy.”
She scrunched her nose. “Impressive, maybe. Sexy might be pushing it.”
“You’re right, showing them my mediocre garden is what will get them into bed.”
“If that’s your end goal you should be thankful you can’t find those horrid jeans.”
He jabbed a finger at her. “Iknewit. What did you do with them?”
There went those eyelashes again, batting. “Nothing. I’m just saying it’s probably best you can’t find them, because they were basically a woman repellant.”
“I’m worth more than the clothes I wear, you know.”
“Believe me, I know that more than anyone. When my mom first started gambling and before I learned to plan ahead, there were times all I had to wear were things we’d picked up at the nearest garage sale. I refused to let it define me, but it sure as hell stung when kids hurled insults at my back.” He had the urge to reach across the table and grab her hand, but she said it so matter-of-factly he could almost believe it didn’t bother her now. “Your clothes should be the least interesting thing about you, but first impressions matter. I just want to help you put your best self out there the first time you meet someone, okay? That means jeans that show her at least a glimpse of your ass.”
He laughed and crossed one ankle across his knee under the table. “Okay, okay. Fine. If I can return the favor, might I suggest that on your next date, maybe don’t bring up the cat sweaters?”
“If you promise not to cite the elements, I won’t bring up my crochet. Deal?”
